


breaking and entering

by cappuccinoir



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-16 18:21:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28586391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cappuccinoir/pseuds/cappuccinoir
Summary: ares, elidibus, and a paint gun.
Relationships: Elidibus & Venat (Final Fantasy XIV)
Kudos: 5





	breaking and entering

**Author's Note:**

> written for [ktísis](https://twitter.com/amaurotine_zine), an amaurotine zine. ares holds the seat of ‘venat’, this was written pre 5.2 so there may be some lore inaccuracies here and there.

“Ares,” Elidibus sighs as a familiar figure climbs in through the window, “Need I remind you that even though you’re a member of the convocation, you still need proper authorisation to enter my offices?”

They flash him a smug smile. “I have a permit,” they say as they toss an official-looking sheet of paper onto his desk. Which has to be fake, given that they had come through the window instead of, you know, the front door, like any regular, _authorised_ visitor would do. 

_Do not take the bait, do not take the bait, do not—_

Against his better judgement, he unfolds it. 

The words ‘I DO WHAT I WANT’ stare back at him, scrawled in their signature looping cursive. 

Unimpressed, he meets their shit-eating grin with the flattest look he can muster, prompting them to raise their hands in mock-surrender. “Okay, okay! I’ll get back to my department soon. I just wanted to check up on everyone’s favourite emissary! Oh, and,” they continue as an afterthought, “I maaay have a project I wanted to show you.”

 _I am the only Emissary_ , he wants to say, but he knows Ares, and knows that the faster he humors them, the faster they’ll leave him alone. He gestures at them to go on. A poor decision, really. 

They instantly brighten up, reaching into the long, billowing sleeves of their robes and pulling out what appears to be a gun. Which, considering that they worked in Weapons and Security, was nothing out of the ordinary… save for the large glass capsule attached to it, filled with some sort of pink liquid. 

“So you see, we were working on getting guns to shoot out other substances, for example, compressed aether, or in this case…” they push a button, and the liquid inside the capsule begins to slosh around furiously.

Elidibus has a bad feeling about this. He darts forward in a (completely futile) attempt to stop them from pulling the trigger, but they dance out of his reach, amusement twinkling in their eyes. 

_Splat._

Elidibus says nothing, looking the perfect picture of composed. It would be more believable, Ares thinks, if his robes weren’t dripping with coloured paint.

“Oh no,” they say, completely deadpan, “The project appears to have malfunctioned and stained the robes of our most esteemed emissary. Whatever shall I do. Clearly you need a fresh change of clothes, and I am legally obliged to accompany you!”

They’re not even bothering to feign innocence. Elidibus briefly considers upping the security around his office, before pausing as he remembers that the person in charge of developing said security systems was standing right in front of him. He sighs, staring forlornly at the stack of (thankfully, not paint-splattered) paperwork on his desk, before resigning himself to his fate. 

“Come, come!” they smile, looping an arm around his as they pull him towards the door. The other members of his department pay him no mind. Traitors. “Don’t mind me!” Ares calls out to them, “Just taking our esteemed Emissary out for some fresh air, as promised!”

“Did you seriously get my entire department in on this.”

“Weeell…” They shoot him a look, and — oh no, he knows that tone. “ _Someone_ has spent the past three days cooped up in his office. Obviously an intervention was needed, and I volunteered my services, seeing as I am an _expert_ in breaking and entering.” 

_Three days?_ Has it really been that long? Elidibus tries to remember the last time he’d left the building. Okay, so maybe they did have a reason to be concerned. “I apologise for the inconvenience.”

They stop in their tracks, almost causing him to bump into them, had he not been paying attention, “Nuh-uh. Don’t think you’re going to get out of this that easily. You’re going to spend the rest of the day resting, not trying to drown yourself in paperwork.” 

Well, he tried. Elidibus would be lying if he said that a day of rest didn’t sound appealing. “Fair enough.”

Pleased, they continue to lead him towards the apartment complexes. This isn’t the first time they’ve been through this dance — them dragging him out of his office when they find out he’s been overworking himself, and him following without much protest, secretly glad for the brief respite. 

(And if the sound of their laughter eases some of the tension in his shoulders, well, no one has to know.)


End file.
